sprout, rise in the am…

Morning rays wash over the dewy grass and weeds scattered about. A view from its perspective, not much different from ares… just a really still life, I hear plants are master mediators.

Assume your power and right to make this day better than the one before, dwell not on the what if; think what next. Momentum carries you, just like time grows the weed from the soil, and it becomes a flash in the memory of the earth; we, are not much different. Snapshot memories, all we have to be remembered with, and someday lost, and at what cost?

to reach our destiny

The summer air brings with it inspiration, another short poem to enjoy.

The wind blows a fresh cool breeze that brings flower scent,
her arm around me, safe from abandonment.

Walking together on this path that leads to our destiny,
snapshot memories only remain of who we both use to be.

In unison we step, each footfall in sync yet free,
Our destination may just be out of reach…
yet carry on this path we must, and prove wrong all their ill speech..

bridge to a place unknown

“When wondering through woods unknown, one may find a bridge to a place unknown… take that path, over the bridge; what you may find may bring you joy, or make you cringe…”

angelic kisses

Wow, it has been some time since I have added a new post, so I figure I will give you some poetic stimulation to enjoy.

When she gives me that look I chill,
and with her soft touch she could Kill.

I feel like I’ve met her before,
and now I’m afraid of what’s behind that door.

Then she whispers to me, “It will be okay.”
Her soft words calm me, so I stay.

Awoken by kisses that only an Angel could give,
and then I knew she was my reason to Live.

I gently kiss her forhead and say,
“I’ve been waiting my whole life for this Day.”

Well, to be honest… that very same angel, left me wanting. Wanting fresh angelic kisses, oh will she ever touch my lips with her euphoric kisses again…

these times…

These days, these times. These moments that come and go, but linger so. Half dreamt, and never fully remembered– these times. Snippets and snapshots, melting thought. Searching for some truth that maybe cannot be realized, or maybe it can=– just down these pills in my hand. Ah, clarity from chaos. These times, these days, life lessons surrounded by haze.

on a journey…

I wrote this last night while….pondering some things. It just came out of me and onto the screen. I rather like it.

Crossing through these ethereal planes with nothing but my mind and some magic perhaps I can hitch a ride on a comet? Someone told me that should I see an otherworldly beast with giant fanged teeth to hold my ground, and let him go around. Through peaks and valleys I float on at a pace to prolong my stay In hopes I may see the beginning again, and experience the future complete.

no crying over spilt milk

A soft blanket of freshly fallen snow glistened like a field of diamonds; me walking alone into the frigid wind, up the path leading to a small log cabin. Over my shoulder is a black duffle bag, in my right hand I carry some groceries; my left holds my cigarette. I take a drag on my smoke and notice how serene the quaint cabin looks with smoke rising from the chimney and nothing but orange candle glow through the windows.

I juggled for the keys and manged too unlock the door and open it without dropping the grocery bag. As I began too step into the house I turned to face the outside, flicked my cigarette butt into the yard, when I finally looked inside the house I was standing three feet away from a half dressed brunette woman laying in a puddle a blood.

Heart beat; faster and faster. Breathing, deeper. Panic, shock… and yet some sort of weird primeval excitement at the site of a dead human being. I was knocked out of my daze of bewilderment and other thoughts by the groceries hitter the floor, a milk jug bursting open. The thick white milk began to roll towards the body, and started mixing with the dark red blood.

The sound of Police sirens startled me yet again… Then, my only thought was; “What the fuck….?”

one night stand.

The sun was peaking through the shades covering the hotel room window, the room a mess of pizza boxes, empty beer cans and liqueur bottles. An end table by the bed held the remnants of a eight-ball that had been consumed quickly throughout the night. Steady slow breathing from my right side, a look over and the only thought I had was, “She’s blonde?”.

Crawling slowly from under the covers I look for a cigarette, find one, light it. Cigarette smoke clouds the room and the suns rays cut through it, leaving bright smoke beams. A smell… could be me, I don’t remember showering within the past two days but the smell was more pungent than body odor. I kick around some trash on the floor and uncover a dead rat, maggots having their way with the carcass. What a dump.

I turn to rustling in the bed, ‘Hey, got another smoke?”. I toss the pack onto the bed with a nod and turn to look through the window; clouds, rain, gloom. From behind me, “Hey, I thought you were a blonde…”.

I sigh. “I thought you would be gone by now…”

chilled night; new planets.

A slightly chilled breeze is being forced through my window by a small circular fan; there is a storm coming and fall is pushing harder each day. They say that, and by “they” I mean the people who know this stuff, a set of fifty planets have been found. Only one for now, seems habitual: “HD 85512 b“.

Anyhow, that planet is mine, and anyone who shall try and take it from me will rue the day! …annnnyway, here is a peaceful song to listen to while you ponder…things. Just press play.

[audio:https://blog.tripleonesix.com/music/DJ Spacer – Daydream Melody.mp3 |titles=Daydream Melody |artists=SpaceR |autostart=no]

the waning gibbous moon…

Tonight earth’s lonely celestial satellite, the moon, is shrinking in size; moving from a full moon, to a new moon. During this time, it is said that:

“This is a time for spells that banish, release, reverse. This is a time to break bad habits or bad addictions, to end bad relationships.”

You can feel it, the change… the power of the moon.

software piracy infographic

Interesting, and well done. I find “1993” to be most intriguing, when “Rusty and Edie’s BBS” was raided, the first act of violence against a pirate group.

Piracy Iconographic via Torrent freak

snow flakes

Small white flakes drift down from the sky, back lit by a bright amber skyline. These flakes they touch everything, land on my skin; they don’t melt these flakes, they burn. Listening; nothing… an eerie silence and nothing else. I cough, again… and again. Blood begins to come with the coughing, as the dust settles and I finally get a clear view:  rubble, fire, chaos.

I look up and away from the pestilence, I try to see a star in the sky, but the glow is still too bright. I hold out my arms and close my eyes, pretending that these are real snow flakes, and we can make snow angles…

All is lost, at least for me. I take my last breaths remembering the good things; sadly, their aren’t that many. I think, “Look what we have done to ourselves…star dust, to star dust”.

dawn; a new day.

The time is 7:15 in the morning, and I have just pretty much completed all that needs to be done for this site to function as such that it is. That is to say, it’s working fine for now.

I made this video today for one of my songs, “All the Lost”. Watch it below.[tube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xg6E2kuf8E8[/tube]

im still awake; midnite redesign…

I bet you noticed? You noticed, Right?
Yes, I redesigned the site. It will be… different now.

“I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.”
Vincent Van Gogh